


Baron of Remnant

by SirYeetusDeletus



Category: Doom (Video Games), RWBY
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:33:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirYeetusDeletus/pseuds/SirYeetusDeletus
Summary: The soul of a former human awakens to find himself on a foreign world and in the body of an ancient Hell beast not his own. Regardless of the circumstances of his reincarnation, this Hell breed finds himself confused with his sudden situation. What does one do when suddenly and inexplicably reincarnated as one of the vilest of beasts known to man? Royalty from hell itself, no less.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Baron of Remnant

**A/N: Moving shit from FFN to AO3. Not abandoning FFN.**

* * *

When the former human finally rose from his nigh eternal slumber, he knew naught of his own existence at first. His memories had been wiped clean, save for a few tiny glimpses of his past, but a past that he nonetheless cared nothing for. As consciousness returned to his ancient body, he caught brief flashes of what his previous life had been like. A beautiful wife, loving children, the not-so-bad job as your everyday office worker...

... the invasion. The demons. The war for humanity's survival. The battles he'd unwillingly fought on the front lines, barely scraping on by a thread of his life each and every time. The bitterness of fighting for a future he'd never get to see. The crushing pain and regret that came with loss. The cold, unforgiving hopelessness that threatened to swallow him whole, knowing that he was going to die, and that those he'd sworn to protect would be left defenseless against the demonic onslaught. Yes, these were some of the few things he could remember from long ago.

None of that mattered now though, nor did the circumstances of his death. None of it would matter ever again, for the events of his past life had occurred billions of years ago on a world surely long gone by now.

What mattered to the former human most right now, was his name. What was his name? He seemed to have forgotten it spending eons trapped in the void. For some reason, he felt that such a thing was the most important part of his being.

And as he had these thoughts, it came to him like a raging storm. The body he resided in was not his own, but its name carried weight, as did its brethren. His name held control and power over that of a star, and within his fists was the fury of an infernal being that commanded three-hundred sixty-five gods, one for each day of the solar cycle. He was a supreme being that could deform the land with a touch of his finger, wielding the flames of the infernal pit. His body was filled with argent splendor, and its magnificence shined brighter than any star. He was a predator of the highest order, feared by lesser beings as a bringer of destruction and a damn-er of souls. He is the army of abandon, created to tear the mortal realm asunder.

And above all, he was royal judgement incarnate: the dreaded Fireborne Baron of Hell, Abraxas.

* * *

The first thing the former human noticed when he woke from his sleep was that it was warm, unnaturally so, but _not_ uncomfortably so.

The second thing that he noticed was that this body was physically _different._ He was large—massive even. His nails felt long, longer than any human nails had the right to be. His legs were shaped unusually, and his feet were whole—no extra digits like toes and the like. He had no lips, no nose, and his hair and ear appendages were nonexistent. He did however, feel two extra appendages branching from either side of his head. We're those... horns? The last physical change he noticed were the _bulging_ muscles he had—there was no other way to describe it.

The last thing the former human noticed was the feeling of the air around him, as well as the _power_ that flowed through his veins. He could sense it—the energy that was ambient in his surroundings, as well as the energy ready to burst forth from the endless well within him.

He didn't give it much thought at first. Instead, he gingerly cracked an eye open. Light from the radiant sun in the sky shined down from the heavens in a feeble attempt to blind him. Somehow, miraculous as it seemed, the former human wasn't affected at all. The sun stared at him and he stared back unflinchingly. Strange.

Eventually the man got bored and forfeited the mock staring contest, sitting up to get a better look at his surroundings and himself. But when he caught sight of his body, his blood ran cold and his eyes widened.

Where his legs should have been were the overly muscular legs of a goat, encrusted by a grey blackstone and obsidian carapace, red veins of _hellfire_ running through them, glowing intensely and hotly. His feet had been replaced by hooves, much like that of a goat's as well. His arms were just as large and muscular as his legs, and his hands had four digits each with claws the length of a ruler and sharp enough to cut through diamonds with ease. The same glowing red veins of fire could be seen running along each appendage. Looking down, he could see that distinct obsidion-grey skin covering his torso, more veins of red running up and down his body...

' _What?_ '

It couldn't be...

The former human found his breath erratic with shock, huffs of superheated air escaping his lungs every time he inhaled then exhaled anxiously. If sweat could have rolled down the side of his face, it would have... His face. He needed a mirror. He needed to see his face.

The former human quickly jumped to his hooves then regretted it instantly. He hadn't realized how tall he was until the back of his head slammed into a tree branch. Despite being as thick as his head, the wood snapped like a damn twig, exploding into splinters at the point of contact. The wood splinters bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the surprise caused him to stumble backwards. His hooves stomped heavily on the ground, creating small cracks and craters wherever he stepped.

' _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!_ ' were the only thoughts going through his mind as flailed his arms miserably in an attempt to right his sudden imbalance, but, as valiant of an effort he had made in order to not look like a fool, his back impacted against a tree. At first, he thought it was over. He had barely touched the tree, and he could already feel his balance coming back to him. A millisecond later, the tree too snapped like a twig, and the former human let out a shout as he fell backwards onto his ass.

Only, instead of the shout he was expecting, the guttural roar of an ancient hell beast left him instead. The unfamiliar sound struck fear in him at first, until he realized that _yes_ it had been _his own_ voice.

As he lie on the soft ground, his body heat lightly searing the plant life around him, he found that the truth was becoming increasingly clear to him. He tried to deny it, but it was laughably obvious that he was no longer human. Even so, the former human clinged onto what little hope he had that he had _not_ become what he thought he was.

The man—rather...no, he needed to confirm it first. The... _being_ sat up and shook his head slightly, then got up onto his hooves slowly, turning around to survey the damage. When he reached his full height, he finally realized just how tall he was. His estimate was about fifteen feet tall, possibly taller. His arms and legs were as thick as tree trunks—no, thicker. The being noticed out of the corner of his eye that he indeed had horns. This only served to further confirm the truth about the monster he had become.

He licked his lips—er, licked his sets of razor sharp teeth nervously, peering down at the tree he had fallen. Or, rather, _group_ of trees he had fallen. He hadn't realized he'd knocked quite a few down with his arms while he had been flailing. The former human swallowed, looking down at the tree stump he had _flattened_ when he fell atop it. The tree had broken such that the stump would have been splintered and spikey, enough so that a man would have been speared on one of the tips easily. He hadn't even _felt_ them.

This newfound strength that he had was no joke _._ He'd need to be more careful in the future. Wait, what was he thinking!? He still needed to confirm what he had become. Not that there was any doubt at this point.

The sound of running water caught his attention. Now that he thought about it, he could hear _everything_ around him. The insects buzzing away, the animals scampering from the area, no doubt due to his presence. Heightened senses, check. Just another thing that confirmed the truth. The being growled to himself unintentionally, turning towards the sound of running water. This was it. This was the final straw.

The former human raised a hoof and took one step... then went flying through the forest like a fucking jet, ripping through several trees like wet toilet paper before ungraciously tripping on a tree stump, unintentionally flattening it underfoot before tumbling downhill, creating a path of wonton destruction. He screamed like a girl in shock, but what came out was an earth shattering roar that tore through the souls of the poor animals and plants around him.

* * *

The former human tumbled for a full minute before reaching the base of a river, the unwarranted joyride that gravity created finally coming to a halt. He was thankful that this new body was apparently incapable of getting dizzy, lest he lose his lunch, whatever creature _that_ might have been.

Antics aside, the former human finally took a look at his reflection in the river. He was shaken to say the least. There was no denying it now.

He had become a demon. Not just any demon, but demon royalty; a Fireborne Baron of Hell to be exact. No, he had not become one of those silly half-baked demon lords you'd find in anime or manga—those were merely the dreams of hormonal teenagers—nor had he become some demon from those fairy tales about faeries that came during the night.

No, he had become a _real_ demon from the _real_ Hell. The Baron stared at his reflection in the river, that ever-present evil grin of razor-sharp teeth on his face, along with the demonic horns and the beady eyes that burned into your soul.

His clawed hands balled into fists seeing this. He remembered now, briefly before his reincarnation, that he had been given the name Abraxas. He had been given form as one of the vilest of creatures, a being of true evil that sought to consume worlds and destroy everything in its path, corrupting souls, burning them, torturing them, and eating them. Abraxas caught brief memories of his past life when fear had gripped his heart because a Baron of Hell had been nearby. He never actually saw it but he _knew_ it was there, because the mere presence of one caused the soul to quake in fear and sometimes even _pain._ These things didn't just kill you. They _stole_ your soul, tormented it and...

 _"AHHHHHHHHHH!_ _WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!?"_ Abraxas roared to the heavens. The guttural sound waves ripped through the forest, tearing at the hearts and souls of plants and animals alike. The Baron didn't seem to notice the small critters frozen in fear around him.

First off, he finds out that he's alive! Hooray!? No, not hooray—why now of all times has he been given life!? He _knew_ it's been a billion years since his soul was sent to the void, so why now?

Second, he finds himself reborn as one of the most vile abominations possible! Is this punishment for something he'd done in his past life? Like, he'd been reborn as evil incarnate just now!

What was he gonna do? Why was he reincarnated? There didn't seem to really be any reason for this at all.

Abraxas huffed in frustration, staring down at those claws—his claws. Just looking at them gave him chills.

He sighed. Having detrimental thoughts about this situation wouldn't get him anywhere.

Besides, he didn't really _feel_ evil. He wasn't getting any impulses to destroy, nor was he really angry at anything. Abraxas had spent eons in the void to reflect on life, cool as a cucumber. Any regrets he had in his past life were gone, faded along with most of his memories, so why was he worrying so much?

He needn't be, and with that, the fifteen foot tall monstrosity finally calmed down. Now that he thought about it, if his soul had been sent to the void, then that meant he hadn't died to the hands of a demon. A comforting thought.

Maybe his soul had transferred to the empty husk of a demon and _that's_ why he had full control? If so, then he _should_ have nothing to worry about. He decided not to dwell on it too much.

Surveying the area, the fifteen foot tall Baron of Hell looked around, seeing nothing but trees, trees, and more fucking trees. The only other thing he could see from this height was the river.

Welp, the world wasn't gonna wait for him. Shrugging to himself, the former human started walking downstream as slowly and carefully as possible, so as not to trip and fall again. Getting used to this body was going to take some time.

If there was a river there was bound to be some sort of river-based civilization down the line somewhere. Actually... perhaps he shouldn't go into town. Yeah, that's probably not a good idea. Maybe he'll find a nice cave to settle down in.

He didn't notice the charred path of destruction he'd left in his wake, nor the ashy, burning-hot footprints he left behind with each of his heavy footfalls.

* * *

It didn't take long before Abraxas found himself getting bored. His new body was filled to the brim with argent energy, and his instincts told him to let loose some punches. Instead of doing that, he decided to experiment with this new body of his. Back in his past life, he had studied demons like his life depended on it—mostly because it did. Simply put, Barons were not to be trifled with.

Not even a dozen HEAT rounds from one of their no name anti-tank rocket launchers could put one down. Adding on to that, even when every last bit of its flesh has been torn away, Barons continued to fight as if they'd entered the battle fresh, as do other demons. It's like they cared not for their own bodies. That was probably because all demons had regenerative properties. If left alone long enough, any demon, no matter the injury, will eventually fully heal itself until not even a scratch remained.

Regeneration or not, Abraxas did not feel like going in completely gung ho, lest his survival depended on it.

Back to the topic at hand, Abraxas could feel the hell energy flowing through his veins, the argent power waiting to be launched forth, and he couldn't deny the bit of excitement he felt. Though his eagerness was somewhat dulled by the fact that his powers were no doubt the vilest of all, having been used by the demons from Hell, the former human was giddy at the prospect of being able to wield something akin to magic. Perhaps in his past life he was a fan of the fantasy and magic genre? He had no other explanation.

He would need to be careful though. Argent plasma was no joke—a single fist sized capsule of the stuff held one-thousand times the amount of energy that a fully functioning nuclear reactor _plant_ could produce in a _year._ Throwing a single fireball could take out a small building or reduce a battle tank to scrap metal. This stuff also had metaphysical properties, being able to burn stuff that shouldn't be able to burn and not extinguishing even when in direct contact with water or ice.

With that in mind, Abraxas began playing around with the stuff.

The feeling of argent power seemed to come natural to him, and with a simple thought, two familiar blades of argent hellfire appeared on his arms emitting a harsh glow that he _knew_ burned at the soul, its flames seeming to eat the air itself, licking indiscriminately.

' _...Easier than I thought._ ' These were the natural weapons of the Fireborne Barons, seen in every engagement with them ever had. Abraxas was conflicted about using them. Hellfire wasn't just an instrument of destruction, it was one of _torture_ , used to torment the soul so that consumption or transformation would be easier. He hesitated to use them against any possible hostiles he came across.

As-a-matter-of-fact, he could feel the souls of the animals and plants around him withering slightly just from the presence of Hellfire. The Baron frowned inwardly. He could feel the souls of everything around him, sense their life energy, potency, and...emotions? There was one last thing that he could sense but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Interesting. Perhaps it was the perk of being such a Hell beast.

With another thought, the flames dissipated, and the souls around him bounced back in relief. Well, onto the next tool in his arsenal. The dreaded fireball—so simple, yet so destructive. Especially if it's hellfire.

Abraxas focused on the feeling of argent flowing through him again, then directed it to his claws quickly. He raised them to the air, expecting a small fireball the size of the ones he'd seen in recordings and such. Instead, flames burst forth from his palms like a flamethrower, burning as bright as the sun above his head. He yelped, which came out as more of a light growl, then willed the flames away. And just in time, for the few leaves on the tree branches above him seemed to quiver as they were reduced to ashes instantly, souls burning slightly.

Abraxas attempted to bite his nonexistent lip. Well whatever, souls should heal themselves eventually if given enough time. Even so, perhaps that's enough Hellfire for one day. The Baron decided that he'd practice with it later since it was obvious his control was lacking. If he could make a small, dense fireball—hell, if he could make a fireball at all—then he wouldn't need to worry about burning things haphazardly.

Whatever, as fun as playing around with instruments of mass destruction was, that wasn't everything he had in his arsenal. Compared to Fireborne Barons, normal Barons of Hell were far weaker and more susceptible to damage. While their bodies were practically bulletproof, a few hits from a gauss cannon had been enough to put one down. The Fireborne Barons however, had blackstone carapace that we're almost invulnerable to all forms of physical damage. Despite these heavy carapaces, the Fireborne Barons weren't slowed down one bit. In fact, they got even faster, stronger, and more aggressive than their lesser demonic brothers ever had.

Knowing this, Abraxas concluded that experimenting with his physical powers out here in the middle of nowhere would be better than doing so near any type of civilization.

Taking a deep breath, the Baron knelt down into a sprinter's stance. The forest seemed to come to a standstill around him as he released the breath, taking another one. Then, he took off.

In an instant, the environment blurred around him as he reached speeds faster than thought possible for any living beings. Each stride was massive, clearing a distance of a hundred feet or more, the dense leg muscles propelling the Baron with such force that the ground rumbled beneath him. Despite this, Abraxas could clearly see everything that passed by him. His super-heightened senses allowed him to pick out every detail within milliseconds, keeping him from simply running into obstacles with each stride.

The wind rushed up against his body like a tornado, but that did nothing to impede his progress. It was cool and crisp, and it felt _amazing_ against his boiling hot skin.

Abraxas unconsciously felt his forked tongue sticking out like a dog's, licking at the wind. Man he could get used to this! He felt so fucking alive! No doubt his back must've been stiff as a brick after spending an eternity in the void!

And yet, the harder he ran, the harder Abraxas felt he could push himself, the endless energy in his system not depleting one bit. He ran faster and faster, taking even longer strides such that the distances he cleared were just downright ridiculous!

A few hundred feet in front of him, Abraxas caught sight of a large boulder just as tall and large as he was. Perfect timing.

Abraxas picked up the pace until he was just a few dozen meters away, then leapt into the air with all of his might. He went soaring into the air like a plane—no, a missile, the ground cracking beneath him from the force. Reaching the apex of his jump a hundred feet in the air, Abraxas could see the forest stretch on for miles and miles, as did the river, a small mountain far in the distance. He didn't really care much for the view right now though. He had so much energy!

Just as he was about to fall, Abraxas balled his right claws into a fist, and turned his body, taking in a deep breath. Then as he began descending back to the ground like a meteor, he released the loudest roar he had thus far, then threw his flaming fist forward like a god sending judgement down upon the mortals.

The very moment his fist grazed the top of the boulder, the concussive force from his punch travelled through the boulder like a wave, vibrating so violently that it shook itself apart. In the next moment, the boulder exploded, becoming a cloud of charred rock and dust that flew in all directions, the kinetic energy of the hit still traveling to the ground, creating a massive crater and spiderweb cracks that spanned the entirety of the clearing that the boulder had resided in. The grass around him flattened against the ground, the trees losing some of their foliage as hurricane winds swept through them wildly. Animals unfortunate enough to have been close enough to the blast were sent tumbling away into the forest, crying out in fear.

Finally, Abraxas touched the ground. He looked up to the sky, feeling more alive than he'd ever been, as if nothing could hold him back.

Reincarnation or not. Vile beast or not. It felt _damn_ good to be back.

Abraxas roared one last time, not in anger or fury, but in excitement. It was so good to be alive.

* * *

After the excitement had worn off, Abraxas continued his run for another few hours, slightly embarrassed that he'd done something like that, but not as much as he'd been surprised. To think that the Barons of Hell had been this powerful. Now he knew why they'd been classified as super-heavies back then. Not that it mattered anymore.

Eventually he came across that mountain he saw earlier when he'd jumped. The Baron figured that finding a cave to use for temporary shelter would be best, since the heat his body created might start a fire if he stayed in one place in the forest too long.

The climb up the mountain didn't take too long—except for the fact that he had to do it twice. His body must've weighed a literal ton, so it was no surprise that _some_ parts of the mountain, say a ledge, wouldn't be able to support his weight. It was kinda his fault for trying to throw himself up as fast as possible though.

The second time he climbed, he took it slow and steady, until he eventually reached level ground nearing the top of the mountain. Typical and convenient as it seemed, at the end of the level ground was the mouth of a large cave, just as large as he was with more than a few stalactites hanging from the ceiling. He briefly wondered if any of those would be sharp enough to pierce his carapace armor. Probably not, but he didn't want to test that.

Abraxas huffed before entering the cave cautiously, taking care not to bump into any of the icicle-like protrusions hanging down like a death trap. Whether it was because he was clumsy or because he just still wasn't used to this body—and trust him, he wasn't—he managed to break a few of them anyways. Not that they did him any harm.

He snorted in slight amusement before looking deeper into the cave, scrutinizing every inch. He froze at what he saw.

Piles of bones—human bones littered the ground, so dry that they were flaking away, turning to dust ever so slowly. A brief memory flashed through his mind, faded as it was.

_Mountains of bone and flesh, blood and organs, viscera and entrails covered the ruined streets, strewn on walls and damaged lampposts. They sky had become a sea of red, as did the rest of the world around him. The shrieks of Lost Souls and whimpers of fallen survivors threatened to make him go insane._

_He ran as fast as he could, but no matter where he went it was all the same. It was a nightmare. The images were forever seared into his mutilated mind, and he would never forget them for all eternity. He could feel his soul shaking from within, the forces of darkness threatening to consume it, or worse, transform it._

_He wanted to cry, but his tears had long since run out. Everything was gone. Everything he'd loved, everything he knew was gone in a flash. They'd been so twisted beyond recognition that he_ _couldn't even remember their names or see their faces._

_Suddenly, he tripped. The bloody squelch that met his ears told him what he'd landed on, but it didn't matter any more. His body was covered in so much flesh and bone that he might as well have been a gore nest._

_More pained screeches met his ears, as well as those of anger and rage. They were getting close._

_His breathing became more erratic. His heart beat so hard in his chest he thought it might explode. His skin burned from exposure to hell's influence, and his body refused to get up._

_This is it. He was going to die here._

_...Did it really matter though?_

_There was nothing left he had to live for. Death was better than this._

_He looked down at the piles of meat he lay atop, and broke seeing the skull staring back at him._

_More shrieks, this time much closer._

_He raised his head._

_And came face to face with two glowing eyes of hatred. The sickly purple-orange skin of the monstrosity before him showed no mercy—only the rage and hatred that was wont to destroy. The man closed his eyes._

Abraxas growled under his breath. He had been saved by something or someone, but he couldn't quite remember. Whatever the case, he silently vowed that he'd never eat or harm a human being should he ever come across one, unless he found a method to determine wether or not the were evil. He shook his head, the blurry memory eventually fading away.

There was something in this cave and it was eating humans—and _only_ humans, he noticed. Wether he was a demon or not, Abraxas still thought like a human. Whatever creature was here, it was atrocious, and he'd put a stop to it.

With that simple thought, he stepped deeper into the cave. The Baron felt that he should've been more afraid, but given that he was a demon as large and heavy as a fucking dump-truck, fear was completely non-existent within him. Perhaps this was another, psychological perk of being a demon. As far as he remembered—and let it be known now that he was having a much better time remembering information rather than distant memories—demons cared not for their own bodies and feared nothing. Even after being torn to literal shreds, they continued to fight until the last breath left their infernal bodies.

Abraxas paused briefly when he felt something. It wasn't physical—no, it was more like that of a soul. Except in this case, it was the lack thereof. Just a little deeper into the cave, he could sense a dark energy given life, but without a soul...this was bad. Most demons didn't have souls, or if they did, they were corrupted so much by hell's influence that they were, well, demonic.

The dark energy that the former human felt here though was not quite demonic and wasn't exactly _true_ evil neither. Even so, it was very malicious and far from anything good. In short, it was evil enough for the Baron to consider it a threat.

Abraxas turned towards the source to see some kind of black wolf. It had fur as dark as the night, and bones protruding from its shoulders, arms, legs, and chest. It looked kinda like an Imp, except larger.

All of those thoughts came to a screeching halt when the Baron turned his gaze to the creatures eyes. Its eyes. Those horrid, hatred-filled red eyes that glowed maliciously in the dark. When Abraxas looked into them, he saw nothing but the destruction it had brought upon its victims, the hatred that it had for all of humanity, the barely concealed rage behind its claws. And worst of all, he saw the souls of the victims it had tormented, each and every last human this thing had ripped to shreds, sending their souls to the void. There was no solace from the fact that it didn't eat souls or transform them. No, there was only the agony, fear, and utter helplessness that this being had inflicted on its victims.

And it was enough to make him see _red._ His claws clenched into fists, and the Fireborne Baron of Hell, Abraxas, roared with the fury of hell and and its victims behind him, dual-blades of argent splendor forming at his arms, their very presence shaking the foundation of the mortal realm. The cave shook, stalactites cracking and raining down from above. The Baron cared not, crouching down before leaping forward, fist poised to strike. The creature of darkness before him had only a moment to look surprised, yelping out to its comrades in alarm before the force of a god slammed into it so hard it became paste.

Blinded by his fury, Abraxas didn't realize how hard he punched the creature—not that he cared—for the back walls of the cave crumbled, dust and debris flying out of the new cave entrance, rocks and boulders tumbling down into the forest below. The former human turned to the dark creature's brothers, what seemed to be more wolves along with bears, giant scorpions, and others. Their forms mattered not to him—only that they had killed humans for their own pleasure.

The Baron crossed his massive arms in an X, then sliced the air, twin blades of uncontrolled argent Hellfire ripping through reality before erupting into torturous flames upon contact with the creatures of darkness unfortunate enough to be in their path. Yet another cave entrance was created from the ensuing explosion, but the Beast seemed to not notice. He did however notice that the dozens of dark creatures he'd already killed turned into a black mist before their dark essence was absorbed into his body. At first he was alarmed, his rampage put on hold for only a moment.

Then a burst of information came to him. They were the creatures of Grimm, hellbent on the destruction of humanity and the faunus. He knew not of the faunus, but he did know the forces he fought against now. Beowolves, Ursai, and Death Stalkers, all ravaging beasts ready to tear humanity asunder. And...they were _delicious._

Only now did Abraxas realize how hungry he was, how ravenous his body was, screaming for him to consume the dark energy these creatures were made of.

With renewed fury stemming from his hate for these beasts as well as his insatiable hunger for their vile essence, Abraxas roared again, dashing forward haphazardly, unknowingly crushing stalactites with his horns as he sliced through the crowd of Grimm with his argent blades. Only after he'd sliced, ripped, teared, and otherwise blown half of their forces to searing chunks of flesh did the rest of the Grimm snap out of their shock, making to defend themselves, eyes searing with their own hatred.

Beowolves latched onto his legs, but he kicked them away with ease, crushing their weak bodies underfoot like ants. Ursai threw around their weight, charging at him and attempting to tackle him to the ground, only to be grabbed by his diamond-sharp claws and torn in half at the seams, Abraxas roaring the whole time. Death Stalkers stabbed their stingers at his blackstone carapace in futility, managing nothing more than a few scratches before they were inevitably sliced in half by his hell blades, or picked up by their stingers to be slammed on the floor so hard that they painted the ground black with their putrid matter.

Eventually, the Grimm threw their all at him by tackling him all at once, twenty to thirty bodies landing on him, each one weighing a thousand pounds. The Baron faltered for only the briefest of moments before his rage was renewed, and he lifted his fists high into the air, each claw gleaming with argent energy, each palm ablaze with Hellfire. Then he slammed them down with all his might. Every last Grimm around him was eviscerated instantaneously, reduced to ashes or paste so fast that it looked as if time had been skipped briefly.

Unfortunately, in his blind rage, Abraxas did not account for the waning structural integrity of the cave's walls, and although the battle was won and his hunger had been sated, he'd only realized he'd made an error when it was too late.

' _Uh oh._ '

The walls, ceiling, and floor of the cave exploded outwards, crumbling before the Baron's argent might. The ground cratered so deeply that the dense rock beneath his hooves, having nowhere else to go, erupted from the sides of the mountain. He looked up slowly with as blank a look on his face as a Baron could create to see the ceiling begin to crumble and fall upon him.

' _Piss_ _._ '

Then he ran, stomping his feet as hard as possible to escape the inevitable collapse of the mountain top. The last thing that could be heard was the loud, ear-piercing roar of utter regret as everything fell apart.

* * *

**A/N: Don't give two shits if you think he should be evil. Fuck you.**

**Signing off,**

**Sir Yeetus Deletus**


End file.
